


Marshmallow Dreams

by ChampagneSly



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 10:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11689365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChampagneSly/pseuds/ChampagneSly
Summary: Kagami and Kuroko go out into the wilderness, have some struggles, and have some important conversations.And Kagami pitches a tent. Or two.





	Marshmallow Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmouse/gifts).



> For bmouse, as part of the 2017 KagaKuro Exchange :)

“This sucks,” Kagami said, holding his hands up in defeat as the wind and rain buffeted his face and ruined every single one of his best laid plans. 

Crouched low next to him, Kuroko looked at him balefully through the hair plastered to his forehead and shrugged, as if he didn’t actually care that they were cold and wet and miserable in the middle of what was supposed to be their great reunion.

So much for that. So much for summer in sunny California.

Kagami had meant for it to be a lot  lot of things-- _ it _ being their first time hanging out after years with an ocean and college and the draft and trying to earn a living between them.  He had meant for the hike around Lake Tahoe to give him enough time away from the pressure of living up to being  the NBA’s rumored number one draft pick to connect with  Kuroko in a real way-- to talk without time differences and too-small phone screens getting in the way of all things Kagami had been meaning to say since they were seventeen. 

He’d imagined it so many times  in the weeks leading up to Kuroko’s long-awaited visit to the States, imagined how they’d hike the Rubicon to Emerald Bay and he’d show-off just a few of the wonders of the Golden State to Kuroko, just a hint of temptation of all the possibilities on the other side of the Pacific. He’d imagined the fire he was going to build and how impressed Kuroko would be by Kagami’s mad Boy Scout skills as they roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. 

He’d imagined where they would sit side-by-side on the lakeshore, how he’d make sure to pick place with the perfect mountain and sunset view. He’d imagined the small curve of Kuroko’s smile--the one  he’d only seen through a screen for way, way too long---and thought about how pretty Kuroko would look lit only by the fire Kagami had built with his own two hands. 

Kagami had meant for this walk in the woods for two to be a lot private and maybe a little bit romantic, a walk around a lake that was big enough for him to summon up his courage and finally take a shot. 

And even though Kuroko had been quiet when Kagami picked him from the hotel where he’d been waiting for Kagami to finally shake loose the shackles of training and press interviews and sports agents, it had seemed like everything was going well. Kuroko had always been quiet, had always been a slow to open up and show-off the heart Kagami knew he still wore on his sleeve. 

Sure, it had been a little awkward to all of a sudden be  _ together _ after so many years apart (to be so close that when they said  _ hello _ ,  Kagami could smell Kuroko’s shampoo and it didn’t smell anything at all like the one he’d used in high school--) but Kagami had always been sort of crap with small talk that wasn’t about basketball, but he had known it would all be fine once they were breathing that fresh mountain air and basking under the California sun. 

And yet here he was, with all his roasted marshmallow dreams quickly turning to gross, gloppy mud. Nope. No pleasant walks or nice fires or heartfelt confessions for Kagami--only rain dripping down the back of his neck and Kuroko shivering beside him, not very subtly attempting to take some shelter from the onslaught behind Kagami’s back. 

“Damned California,” Kagami said, shifting a little bit closer to shield Kuroko as best as he possible could.

Kuroko pinched cold fingers into Kagami’s side, trying and failing to look stern as he admonished,. “You shouldn’t be mean to California.” 

turning around and wiping the back of his hand over his brow in a fruitless attempt to make it so the could see, even for just a second, Kuroko’s face without rain drops gumming his eyelashes and making his eyes sting. 

Kagami looked up at the angry gray skies that had betrayed them, then wiped the back of his hand over his brow in the hopes of being able to make it so he could see, even for a second, Kuroko’s face without raindrops gumming up his lashes. He looked down at Kuroko’s wet, flushed cheeks and asked, “Why the hell not?” 

“It’s been good to you,” Kuroko said, speaking soft-spoken truths into Kagami’s stubborn ears just as he’d always done. Kagami watched as Kuroko flicked his fingers against the rain, counting off all the reasons Kagami had to be grateful to the Golden State. “Himuro, Alex, streetball, UCLA--”

“I know,” Kagami interrupted, pressing Kuroko’s hand down, the tips of his fingers sliding wetly against Kagami’s palm. “But it’s just  _ this _ \--” he jerked his head in the general direction of the weather falling down around them, “California’s supposed to be sunny in June. Three years of no rain and then today--” 

“Are you wishing for the drought to return?” Kuroko asked, a hint of laughter somewhere beneath his disapproval. “That’s not very nice, Kagami.”  

“Ugh. Shut-up.” Kagami tried to push away, frustrated and caught out. 

“You’re upset.”  Kuroko curled his fingers around Kagami’s wrist, peering up at him with those damned too-blue eyes. 

“Not at you,” Kagami muttered, ashamed that he’d made Kuroko doubt him for even a second, that he’d somehow managed to make this outing even more of a disaster. 

“Just as the weather?” Kuroko said, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. 

Kagami wanted to kiss him. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” 

“Kagami had big plans?” 

Suddenly warm despite the rain dripping down his collar, Kagami looked away, unable to trust himself when confronted with Kuroko’s best “ _ tell me what the hell your problem is so we can make it better together _ ” stare. Too many  years apart had been enough to render what little immunity he’d ever had entirely moot. 

“I wanted to us to have a good time,” Kagami said. “You know, take a walk, be awed by nature, eat some s’mores, hang out and talk and watch the California sunset.” He shook his head. 

“There may be no sunset we can see, but I’m here and you’re here.” Kuroko rubbed his thumb back and forth across Kagami’s wrist, as if he wanted to chase the sudden jumping of Kagami’s pulse. “We can still walk and be awed and talk.” Kagami heard the catch in Kuroko’s voice as he took a breath and sighed, “It’s been so long and we’ve faced worse obstacles than a little bit of rain.” 

Kagami laughed, despite the thundering hope in his chest. “Aomine. Akashi--”

“Riko’s cooking.”

“Don’t remind me,” Kagami shuddered, finally daring to turn back and meet Kuroko’s gaze, reminded all at once why Kuroko had been the best damned teammate he’d ever had. “Screw it, walking in the rain and s’mores it is. I’m game if you are.” 

“Always,” Kuroko said, squeezing Kagami’s wrist as they clambered to their feet, mud squishing beneath their shoes and rain streaming down their faces. 

Despite the damp and the cold, Kagami felt like he’d just come off the beach, cheeks burning hot like he’d been basking in the sun all day. It was easy, now, with Kuroko walking beside him to stride into the biting wind, warmed by the knowledge that just being together was enough for Kuroko, too. 

~~

“You know, Kagami, I confess I am feeling quite awed at the moment,” Kuroko said, that familiar hint of laughter rippling beneath his words. 

Kagami looked over his shoulder to see what was so damned funny only to find that Kuroko’s gaze was suspiciously hovering about six inches below his waistline. The tent poles he’d been struggling to connect together clattered on the ground.

“Oh yeah?” Kagami stuttered, suddenly conscious of the way he was bending over as he fumbled to pick up the poles. 

“Mmm.” Kuroko bent down next to him, his lips alarmingly close to Kagami’s telltale blush. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such skill at tent-pitching.”

Kagami forcibly prevented himself from looking down at his crotch, hoping against hope that Kuroko wasn’t making a filthy joke about the other pole that Kagami might have wanted to handle in Kuroko’s presence. 

“Yeah, well, I used to be a Boy Scout,” Kagami said, all at once very thankful that he needed to keep his eyes on the prize (namely, a warm, dry place to hide) and not on Kuroko’s shameless face. “Back before I came to Japan.”

Kuroko handed him the next pool, his fingers still cold and wet against Kagami’s skin. The laughter in his voice had turned wistful and soft. “I never knew.”

“My dad thought it would help me make friends and give me something to do on the weekends he was traveling. Keep me out of trouble. ” Kagami explained, sliding the poles through the sleeves of the tent as quickly as he could, wanting to spare Kuroko from even a single minute more in the rain. 

“Did it work?” 

“Hell no,” Kagami snorted, moving around the tent and slipping in pole after pole until the skeleton was finally covered. “Even getting muddy in the great outdoors couldn’t keep me off the basketball court.”

“Well, I suppose it worked out in the end,” Kuroko said, helping him stake down the tent, shivering as they rushed to tuck under the edges of the groundsheet. “Basketball and tent-pitching. Kagami is very good at both.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kagami blustered, shoving his icy fingers beneath his armpits and nodding furiously in the direction of their blessed new shelter. “Just take that wet shit off and get in there.” 

“Kagami wants me to take my clothes off?” Kuroko almost leered at him. 

Kagami gaped, rolling his eyes towards the still pouring heavens and prayed that Kuroko hadn’t become a mind reader in the time they had been apart.  

“Don’t be a dumbass...you can’t go bringing your wet clothes into our nice, warm tent.” Kagami started peeling off his own soaked outerwear, determined to lead by example. “Didn’t they teach you anything at your fancy teacher-school?” 

Kuroko’s response was muffled by the shirt coming over his head, leaving his hair mussed and wild. “My apologies. I didn’t realize camping etiquette was critical knowledge for kindergarten teachers.” 

Kagami scowled, toed off his muddy, disgusting shoes and threw himself into the tent. Kuroko’s quiet laughter followed closely behind.

“Perhaps one day, Kagami could be a special guest lecturer in my class,” Kuroko mused, delicately folding himself in next to Kagami. “If you’re not too busy being a star in the NBA, of course.” 

Kuroko’s  gaze was bright and playful, his body arching close towards Kagami’s crouch in the tight confines of the tent. Kagami wondered if he might have been safer braving the elements.

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll always have time for you.” Kagami muttered, embarrassed by the flush that had crept down from his cheekbones to take up residence on this throat, on the tips of his ears. 

“I know,” Kuroko said, playfulness slipping into something soft and serious--the tone he always took when it really mattered, when they were 5 seconds from the buzzer with one shot left to make. “Even far away, even almost famous, you’ve always been there.” 

Kuroko’s fingers curled around his wrist, just like they had only hours before, the pad of his thumb once more chasing the thump-thump of Kagami’s heart. Kagami could have sworn the sound of it was loud enough to drown out the rain, to dampen the howling of the wind. Whatever cold he might have been feeling disappeared in an instant, lost to the warmth of Kuroko’s touch. 

Kagami pressed in closer, wanting to share his rising heat. Kuroko slumped against him, sticky-wet and boneless in that way he used to be after really long, hard games, like he’d finally achieved victory and all that was left to do was rest and trust Kagami to carry him home. Kagami risked winding his free arm around Kuroko’s sagging shoulders and listened to the gentle in and out of Kuroko’s breath, a steady, sure presence in the midst of the storm. 

Kagami thought about his sunset daydreams and decided that nothing was better than this. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to make my way to you,” Kuroko murmured, thumb rubbing back and forth, back and forth. “Life gets in the way of the things we want.” 

“S’ok,” Kagami breathed, watching the slow movement of skin and against skin, so different from when they used to knock their knuckles together, though the sweetness of it somehow felt the same. “What you were doing over there--getting a degree, getting a job--that’s  important, you know.” 

“Well, vacations are also important.” 

“Even ones where you end up shivering your ass off in a tent?” Kagami joked weakly, trying to dissolve the tension bubbling in his gut.  

“I don’t think my ass is in any danger,” Kuroko demurred, peering at Kagami through his eyelashes, just like he had when they were cowering from the rain. His hair was a mess, he smelled like rain and cheap, shampoo, and Kagami was pretty sure there was mud splattered on his neck, but Kuroko was still the finest thing he’d seen since he was smart enough to look. Kuroko smiled. “And I was promised s’mores.” 

“I’m not lighting a fire in here, dummy.” Kagami squeezed Kuroko’s shoulder, took a chance on letting his the palm of his hand drift from shoulder to collarbone, to the nape of his neck. 

“But I’ve been waiting all afternoon,” Kuroko said, eyelashes almost, almost fluttering, even as a smile threatened to break loose across his lips. “And I did come all this way.” 

Kagami wondered when he’d lost control of the situation. Wondered if he’d ever had any control at all, or if perhaps the worst June rainstorm in a decade was a warning sign that he wasn’t the one calling the plays.  

“Sorry, buddy. You’re just gonna have to settle for untoasted marshmallows and solid chocolate.” 

Kuroko tilted his head back to rest against the cup of Kagami’s palm and sighed, “My life with you is nothing but an unending series of disappointments.”

“Jerk,” Kagami grumbled, tugging on still damp ends of Kuroko’s hair. “It’s that or nothing. Take it or leave it.”

“Rest assured, Kagami, I’m going to take it,” Kuroko said, cheeks pinking up nicely as he reached for Kagami’s backpack. 

Kagami took a long, slow moment to recover from  _ that _ little statement, still not 100% certain if Kuroko was really interested in witnessing his other tent-pitching skills. By the time he’d regained his mental faculties, Kuroko was already popping a marshmallow between his lips, fluffy white goodness disappearing between pale pink. Kagami watched, trapped in space and time as Kuroko closed his eyes and made little sounds that no marshmallow had ever deserved. 

“I’d wondered, you know, if it would be different, or not what I had expected after how long I’d been craving it. If perhaps I’d just dreamed up how good it would taste once I finally had it again.” Kuroko said, opening his eyes and smiling softly.

Kagami suspected that maybe, just maybe, Kuroko wasn’t talking about marshmallows. He curled Kuroko’s hair between his fingers, marveled at how long it had grown when he wasn’t there to look and took his best shot. 

“And? What’s the verdict?” 

Kuroko’s chin tilted up and his breath smelled of sugar as he whispered, “ _ It’s still good. Very good, _ ” and kissed Kagami on the mouth. 

Kagami parted his lips, softened them against the press of Kuroko’s kiss. The rain drummed down on the tent, drowning out all sound but the rush of his heartbeat in his ears and the murmur of Kuroko’s sighs. Kagami held Kuroko, still a little wet, still a little mussed, covered in California rain and thought:

_ Screw that, Tetsuya. It’s still the best.  _


End file.
